The rumbling sound of the snow stopped around Melanie, who was pinned flat on her back with a roof of snow pressing down on her from above. All was now deathly silent. And she was already starting to feel light-headed. Her air was starting to run out quickly.
"Don't panic, Haddix, whatever you do," she begged herself, terror at being buried alive nonetheless starting to rise inside her, "Don't do anything to waste oxygen. And don't just lay back and accept this."
She raised her right hand as far as she could and started scraping against the snow above her, not sure how deeply buried she was. She then maneuvered her left hand up to grasp hold of the crucifix around her neck. "Holy father, who art in heaven, help your servant in her hour of need," she prayed softly, "Come, Lord Jesus, protect your daughter with your mercy. Come Holy Spirit, and breathe hope into a situation where there may seem to be none. Amen."
She listened hard. Still no sound could be heard around her. And breathing was getting more difficult now. "Lord God, have mercy and protect the mortal life of your humble servant, when she wishes to do your good works in the world," she whispered, squeezing the crucifix harder, "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, please save your holy daughter..."
And then she heard it: shovels scraping nearby. And the snow was starting to crumple to her right. "Over here," she croaked towards it, then glanced up and mumbled, "Thank you, Lord." More snow was shoveled away. "Here she is!" a voice called out, "Get some oxygen, quick!"
Strong hands too hold of Melanie and pulled her out of the snow. An oxygen mask was pushed over her face, sending much appreciated air into her lungs. "Thanks, I'm good," she told the rescue crews dragging her to a gurney, "Rick...?" she glanced around and saw him on the edge of the applauding crowd, unharmed and watching her with a dumbfounded expression. At least he was safe, and that was all that mattered, she thought in relief. Her mind turned, though to the avalanche. Had it been natural, or had someone deliberately set it off? Those bangs she'd heard beforehand sounded quite ominous indeed...
"Looks like you're all good, miss," the resort doctor told her about fifteen minutes later inside his office within the hotel, "I guess you're good to go."
"Thanks for everything," Melanie thanked him, sliding down off his table, "How about anyone else that the snow might have...?"
"Well, we'll do what we can with them, don't you worry about that," he said quickly, turning back to his folders on the nearby desk. Melanie gulped, knowing full well that meant she was possibly the sole survivor of the avalanche. "Well, have a good day," she told him, bustling out of the office. "Hey, good to see you," Marti was waiting for her out in the hall. She gave Melanie another hug, "You looked OK when they dug you out, but I just wanted to make sure."
"I appreciate it, Marti. Was anyone else hurt?" Melanie asked worriedly.
"Unfortunately, yeah," the redhead nodded grimly, "Two skiers dead, another practically dead. So count yourself really lucky, Melanie."
"I see," Melanie tapped her crucifix and mouthed, "Thank you, and please have mercy on their souls," skyward. "Where's everyone else?" she asked Marti.
"Having lunch in the restaurant; since you seemed basically all right, they told me they'd wait for you there."
"OK, let me go back and get out of these ski clothes and we'll join them," Melanie turned and walked down the hall towards where she knew their room was. "I'm wondering about that avalanche, Marti," she told her friend worriedly, "Those bangs we heard before it didn't sound right."
"Yeah, I heard them too. That could have been planted dynamite," Marti looked just as worried, "I think we've walked into something big here, Melanie, and wherever we go from here, we'd better be really careful. Anyone who'd set off an..."
"Shh," Melanie caught her arm and brought her to a stop. A cleaning cart was parked in front of Carol and Roxanne's room across from theirs, and a familiar not-really maid was disappearing into it. "Into our room, quietly; we'll listen in and see what she finds," she whispered to Marti. Marti nodded and quietly pressed her room card into the slot. She and Melanie slipped inside, pushed the door almost all the way closed, and listened through the small crack. "...didn't see or hear anything until they were attacked," Patricia Walton the cop was muttering to herself, fortunately loud enough for the girls to hear clearly, "OK, they didn't come in the window with no prints on the sills...air ducts are intact, they didn't push that down to come in...there has to be a secret way in somewhere. But where? Check the walls...or is it the floor? One thing at a time..."
Thumps rang out; the policewoman was testing the walls. Melanie could not hear any hollow sounds. Eight separate raps rang out before footsteps came up the hall. "Hey Carla, what's taking you so long!?" another woman called impatiently into the Parker sisters' room.
"Oh, uh, there's some bloodstains I'm trying to scrub out," Walton called back.
"Well hurry up; you're late for the staff meeting the boss scheduled. He wants you A.S.A.P.," the other woman said firmly.
"All right, all right, I'm coming," Walton sighed. Melanie softly pushed her door all the way closed so Walton wouldn't know she was listening in. She waved Marti to follow her back away from the door. "A secret passage makes the most sense if there's no sign of forced entry anywhere," she said softly to the redhead, unzipping her coat.
"Same here," Marti nodded in agreement, "That would explain how the attacker got away so quickly; he or she probably found another tunnel somewhere. Which means," she glanced worriedly around their room, "Maybe they've been watching us all the time. We better check the walls and floors ourselves at some point to make sure.
"Couldn't hurt, I guess. And we can ask Carol and Roxanne to have us take a look inside their room as well," Melanie laid her snow pants on her bed, then grabbed her high tops from the floor and started lacing them up, "That way we at least have some cover if they're in with us. Let's go meet up with them; I'm starving by now."
"Go in there again!?" Roxanne grimaced around the dining room table, "Honestly, I'd rather not, Melanie, not after what went on in there..."
"I understand, Roxanne, but could you at least let us go in?" Melanie asked her, looking up from her menu, "We can find..."
"You promised the cop you'd stay out of it, Melanie, you promised!" Emily upbraided her with a frown, "You're really tempting fate if you go ahead with investigating this!"
"Hey, we're helping the police, Emily; what they can't find, we'll find for them. They can take all the credit if they insist. Count me in," Sydney eagerly leaned across the table towards Melanie, "I want in on the adventure..."
"Everything has to be an adventure with you, Syd; sometimes I swear you're impossible!" Emily threw up her hands in disgust, "You have no clue what you're jumping into!"
"I'm living my life to the fullest; perhaps some of us should think the same way," Sydney said defensively.
"I think living my life to the fullest is staying alive, which is not easy in Shadyside when some people insist on pushing their luck!" Emily glared back and forth between Sydney and Melanie. "They'll be coming after us in no time if we give them reason to! God, I already wish I could just go home now...!"
"Well, sorry, looks like that's a no," Carol declared, staring at the TV in the corner, "Looks like those two snowstorms to the west of us just merged. They're calling for blizzard conditions over the next day here."
"Of course, I knew it!" Emily groaned, staring at the screen, which was calling for at least fifteen inches of snow for their location, "This was guaranteed to happen; now we'll be good and trapped up here, and then the killer'll really go to work on us all!"
"Emily, you're not going to die. I've got you're back, everyone's got your back, I promise," Melanie assured her, taking her hand, "I defend my friends to the end."
"Promises mean nothing in the face of killers, Melanie. If you lived here long enough, you'd no that there's no stopping...!"
"Uh, excuse me a minute," came a boy's voice behind them. "Oh, Patrick, hello," Marti broke into a huge smile to see the boy she had a crush on standing there, "What brings you over here?"
"I've been sent with a message: Rick Lewis wants you to come over to his table," Patrick turned to Melanie, then pointed. Melanie's heart started pounding. "Rick does?" she turned to follow Patrick's finger and saw Rick staring towards her. "Well, uh, OK, I'm..."
"Go get him," grinning, Marti pushed her gently to her feet. "And incidentally, we wouldn't mind having some company ourselves here," she told Patrick dreamily. Melanie paid no attention to the rest of the conversation, her eyes darting nervously to the floor as she approached Rick's table. "Hey there," his voice said, even though she was staring at his feet, "Glad to see you're OK."
"Thanks, Rick, I, I appreciate that you're concerned for me," she stammered, rocking from side to side.
"Hey, why so worried?" he bent down to her level to look her in the eye, "Sit down," he gestured at the chair across from his. Melanie plopped down in it and forced herself to look up at him. "So you know my name," he was smiling at her, "I've seen you around this week; you're the new girl, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm Melanie, Melanie Haddix," she told him, her fingers twitching.
"Melanie. That's a really pretty name for a girl to have," he mused, the smile deepening, "I want above all to say thank you for today, Melanie. You saved my life on the slopes, pushing me out of harm's way of that avalanche."
"D-Don't mention it, Rick," she rambled quickly, "I mean..." she took a deep breath, "Helping people's what I like doing."
"And I appreciate what you did for me," Rick reached across the table and took hold of her hand, "I owe you a big debt."
"No, you don't have to do anything, Rick. Knowing you're all right's enough of..."
"No, no, I insist. I'm going to make this up to you somehow, some time, Melanie, I promise," he told her. He picked up his menu, "And I'll start by buying you dinner. What would you like?"
"Uh," Melanie picked up her the menu on the table in front of her, "Well, I guess the chicken finger basket'll be good."
"OK, I'll let the waiter know when he comes by," Rick lowered the menu and stared warmly at her. "Did anyone tell you how pretty you are, Melanie?"
"Rick, stop, don't," she blushed heavily, "My mom tells me I am, but I..."
"Well, take it from me, you're very, very beautiful," he told her, "And don't ever let anyone tell you any different."
"Oh Rick," she mumbled, excited that he now seemed to think highly of her.
"So tell me about yourself," Rick leaned forward towards her, "Where were you from that started with an L?" he noticed the large white letter on her varsity jacket.
"Lawrenceburg, Nebraska," she pointed to it, "I tried out for track and field my freshman year. I gave up after one year-it really wasn't what I'd expected-but I kept the jacket. I like wearing it anyway; it just feels like me."
"It gives you a nice, sweet look," he told her, "What do you like doing?"
"I want to be a writer some day. I'm working on a book, although I don't know how good it is. Marti McClure over there asked me to join the school newspaper with her; we're writing a piece on the hotel for it," she turned and laughed to see Marti and the other girls watching her with the same amusing lovelorn expressions at their table. "I like reading too; I'm probably happiest to curl up in a chair, slip the headphones of my CD player on, and tune out the world to popular music while I read a good book."
"Sounds neat," seemed genuinely impressed, "Well, if Marti and the others haven't told you, things can get a little rough in Shadyside at times, but if you're careful, you'll probably like it here-chicken finger basket for her, club sandwich for me," he told the approaching waiter, "And two large sodas."
The waiter nodded and walked off, writing the order down. "Well, anyway, I'm the football team's quarterback," Rick told Melanie, "We made the playoffs this past year; farthest we've gone since I've known. You attend games back in Nebraska?"
"A couple, yeah. It was a nice place to go with friends on a Friday night."
"So what brought you here to Shadyside?"
"My dad got transferred to the parish here. He's a minister, and I've helped him out in the church as long as I can remember."
"So you're a religious girl, huh?"
"I try and let Jesus's teachings guide me. There's no greater gift that helping those in need, Rick, as he taught. Good works make the world go round."
"You're a lot different from most of the girls in Shadyside," he mused softly, "Sex seems to be what makes their world go round-lots and lots of wild sex."
"I...I see you go out with Rhonda Rouse..." she said, her spirits sinking.
"Well, yeah, but I'm open if someone better comes along," he smiled at her, "Girls who clearly have hearts of gold like you do have good chances, Melanie. You know, just like that, I'm already really liking you a lot."
"Thank you, Rick, I've...I've thought you were really handsome from the time I first saw you, and...well...this past week, I've dreamed of being face to face with you, and..." she couldn't finish, to overwhelmed by the fact he seemed to care deeply for her.
"Well, glad to know you like me," he was smiling deeply, "How about you and I go for a ski together later on today, when we..."
There suddenly came a strangled cry from behind them. Rick spun around in a flash. "Rob!" he gasped at the sight of one of the boys at the table behind them toppling to the floor with his mouth foaming, "Rob, what's going on!?"
He rushed over to the other boy. Melanie rushed after him, hoping there was some way she could help. But it was already too late: with one more agonized howl, the boy went still, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Rob, Rob, don't scare me like this!" Rick cried, leaning over the boy, "Don't...!"
"Forget it, Rick, he's gone," another boy shook his head sadly, looking stunned. "Get the doctor!" he shouted to the nearest waiter. Melanie slumped to the floor, stunned herself. Had the killer just struck again? And if so, how this time...?